


Falling and Finding

by Molly_Jae



Series: Roses and Revolutions [2]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies), The Hunger Games (Movies) RPF
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe, Book/Movie 2: Catching Fire, Drama, Drama & Romance, F/M, Family Drama, Psychological Drama, Rebellion, Revolution, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-07-10 03:53:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15941243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Molly_Jae/pseuds/Molly_Jae
Summary: They had won the 74th Hunger Games.They had come out alive, waving the banner of their supposed love as the reason for their defiance, but a spark has been lit and tension continues to run high. Cato and Prim had sworn a life without the other was not worth living. All they wanted was a peaceful life -- preferably, with each other.So what happens when one of them is thrown back into the arena?





	1. Settling In

** START OF ACT TWO **

* * *

Chapter One - Settling In

* * *

 

A jump.

 

Crunching leaves.

 

Steel lodging into wood.

 

_Snikt._

 

_Thud._

 

More crunching leaves.

 

A voice in the distance.

 

Time stood still.

 

Prim exhaled slowly. No longer comfortable with simply being the sweet homemaker she had once been, no longer required to head to school, and no longer needing to rely on Katniss for food and life in general…Primrose Everdeen felt like an outsider looking in on her new life. 

She still went to school. First it had been because she felt like she had to; but then in the end, she found school to be a good distraction for a few hours before she ultimately snuck off to the woods and trying to stave off the memories and nightmares from the games. By the time fall had properly set in, Prim had stopped attending classes and used her time to gather herbs and hunt. She had ultimately thought to herself that if she wanted to return to her schooling, she could come back next year or even after the Victory Tour. In fact, she was sure a private teacher could even be arranged seeing as she would forever be gone once a year to attend to the games.

A slow and shaky intake of breath and another slow sigh. It seemed that no matter what she thought or did, her mind found a way to wander back to the games. She placed a shaking hand on the handle of the knife she had thrown and pulled it out of the tree. A few more paces and she found the hollow tree that housed Katniss’ bow and arrows. Rechecking her knife in the leather shoulder bag that she had, she made sure to secure the weapons she was loaning from her sister.

With Katniss in school and Gale working in the mines, Prim had the woods pretty much to herself during school hours. She did her best to stay out of Katniss’ way when she went to the woods after school, which meant returning her older sister’s weapon and getting back into the district’s territory before the day’s classes finished.

Her hands shook as she drew the string back, aiming the arrow at an unsuspecting hare. When she let go of the string, she watched as the hare realized its predicament a moment too late and the arrowhead sunk into its body. This time, Prim didn’t even flinch. She had come so far from the easily spooked girl that had entered the Capitol.

A few hours later found her in the Hawthorne home, turning over her catch (two hares and a squirrel along with some herbs) to Gale’s mother. She refused her offer to stay longer than necessary to hand over the game, not wanting to run into Rory or Katniss —or even Gale. She’d been unwilling to be left alone with any of them for an extended amount of time.

Katniss tried to be there for her, but she didn’t understand, nor did Prim want her to. At the end of the day, what really mattered to both Katniss and their mother was that Prim had returned _alive._

_Alive but not whole_ , Prim would often finish in her head when her thoughts went in that direction. As it were, Katniss was a wonderful sister. She had made sure to provide for their family when their father passed away, and when surviving day to day was no longer a problem, Katniss had focused her attention on providing for the Hawthornes and ensuring that Prim was okay.

Prim supposed that Katniss’ real goal was ensuring she was happy, but she didn’t think that was possible with the real threat that the Capitol was watching her every move. It was another reason she had a love-hate relationship with being in the woods. Yes, she felt calmer amongst the trees, but she feared that she could be seen sneaking in and out of the district.

She stood at her old home in the Seam. The house was technically still their’s. If she were to die, Katniss and her mom would be moved back to the house she and Katniss had grown up in. As it were, they were enjoying the fruits of her labor at the games. She switched from the tattered boots and coat that she had been using whenever she went out of the territory to the more luxurious counterparts she’d been given.

Lost in thought, she was surprised to find Katniss standing by the door.

“Finally caught you.” She was covered in a thin layer of sweat despite the cool autumn air. Her chest rose and fell deeply, which told Prim she had run from school to catch her before she returned to Victors Village.

“Hi,” Prim tugged at the sleeves of her coat.

“Find much today?”

Prim felt like a cornered deer. There was no mistaking that Katniss knew what she’d been up to. It was a sort of unspoken agreement between them, Prim supposed. She never expressly denied what she did in her own time, but she never really talked about it as well. Katniss was the same. They knew the other hunted and then gave to the Hawthornes, though Katniss also detoured to the Hob while Prim headed for Haymitch’s house.

“I just want you to be safe, little duck.” The use of the childhood nickname prompted a small reassuring smile from Prim. “I’ll see you for dinner?”

Prim nodded then left.

It wasn’t the first time that she found herself standing in front of the bakery — _The Mellark Bakery_. Within the first forty-eight hours of her return to District Twelve, her feet had taken her to the last workplace of _the Boy with Bread_. However, in spite of being within the vicinity and often looking at it for an extended amount of time, she never made a move to enter or even step closer than being across the street.

Around an hour later and she was entering her neighbor’s house.

She didn’t know how Haymitch survived, living the way he did. The first time she had entered his home, there had been cans and bottles of alcohol scattered everywhere. The place had reeked of the liquid, and what food he had were either already rotting or getting there. Any and all linen had a thick layer of dust, and the only sign of life in the property had been Haymitch’s passed out figure onthe couch. Without a second thought, Prim had gone about setting his house straight. She cleaned the rooms and changed the linens. She took out the trash and cleared his fridge. In the midst of it, Haymitch had come to and repeatedly told (read: _yelled at_ ) her to leave him alone, a plight she readily ignored. By the time she finished, Haymitch had fallen back asleep and the sun had set hours ago.

Since then, Prim had made it her business to make sure that Haymitch was living in a decent space and eating at least one good meal a day. After having helped her survive the games and warning Cato of the repercussions _her idea_ had caused, it was the least she could do. She made sure her visits never lasted too long, least anyone get too suspicious. She knew how odd her family found how often she visited the man, and she could only imagine what others might think if they found out.

When there was time after forcing Haymitch to eat and before dinner at her house, Prim would look for other things to occupy her time. Sometimes she would talk to Madge Undersee, the Mayor’s daughter, who had given her the Mockingjay pin that had been her token from home in the games. Other times, she would actually return to the Seam as if she hadn’t already been there earlier that day, and speak with the people that live there. None of them asked her about the games, only ever speaking of the happenings in their day-to-day life or the days before her entering the games. There were other times, when Primrose Everdeen felt so far from being the sweet cherub that she has always been portrayed to be, she simply wandered the streets. She made sure to look as soft and harmless as she was known to be, donning on one of the multitude of dresses she was now in possession of, and just walked with no destination in mind.

After dinner, Prim would try to keep her family company; if Katniss stuck around instead of visiting the Hawthornes (Prim still wasn’t entirely sure what the situation was with Gale and her sister, but she did hope for the best), they would go out and look at the stars. Otherwise, Prim would play with Lady and Buttercup.

It was in the dead of the night that Prim often felt trapped in her own home — in her own mind, even. With the moon and stars came the nightmares. Unlike in the day wherein she could find something to distract herself, she couldn’t just up and leave at night. Peacekeepers roamed the streets to make sure everyone adhered to their curfew and maintained propriety. She didn’t want to bring any unwanted attention to herself. You never know who could be watching, after all.

And so in her bed, she would toss and turn as she was bombarded with various memories from the games. No sob would escape her as she would often end up frozen in place, reliving the worst weeks of her life, and by the time the sun rose, she would have barely gotten any sleep but knew that she had to go on and live her life.

She only wished Cato could have been there sooner. Her only hope of seeing him was that they had been promised to reunite before the Victory Tour.

* * *

“I don’t know what you’re trying to break; your hands or that bag.” 

Cato ignored Brutus, continuing his round of hits. There was nothing to be said. He had just been informed yesterday that he would be heading out to a meeting for the Victory Tour in a week’s time. From what he’d heard, it was the first time that such a thing was going to happen. Then again, it was the first time that two Victors had emerged from the games; from different districts, no less! He didn’t really care much about the specifics. All that Cato really cared about was that he would be with Prim again.

“Ignoring me won’t have the same effect it did with the others, you know.” Brutus came to stand behind the punching bag, holding it so that it was stable against Cato’s fists. “They left you alone because they wanted you to listen to them. I’m not here for that.”

The blond’s silence continued. With a twist, Cato transitioned from a punch to a kick. The weight behind the kick had Brutus stumbling a bit, but he easily regained his footing. He was taller than Cato by quite a bit, and though Cato was muscular, Brutus looked like he was made of pure muscle. Their eyes met briefly, then the younger man turned and left.

Undeterred, Brutus followed him continuing, “I’m on your side here, kid.”

That caught Cato’s attention. He didn’t let his body language show it, but Brutus had achieved what everyone else in Cato’s life had been trying to do since his return. What did Brutus mean he was on Cato’s side? Who’s on the other?

“Everyone wants you to hear what they have to say,” began Brutus once more as Cato sat on a bench by his bag. “I want to hear what _you_ have to say.”

Just like that, Cato didn’t want to speak at all. There was nothing of true value that he could say because he didn’t trust Brutus. Among all his fellow District Two Victors, the only one he truly trusted was Lyme. She had offered little comfort and help in ensuring he looked every bit the fool in love with Primrose Everdeen. She had also stayed away from him since their return. He didn’t know how to take it, but it only served to make Cato feel even more like Brutus was fishing for information as opposed to really being there for the newest Victor.

Hours later, Cato had to admit that Brutus had more patience than he once gave the older man credit for. They stood in front of Cato’s new house in Victors Village, which stood beside Lyme’s and across Enobaria’s. Neither had spoken a word to the other, and only Brutus acknowledged the people that greeted them when they passed.

Cato lived alone in his new house. None of his relatives had been forced nor invited to live with him; something he was grateful for. It didn’t stop them from visiting though. He lived in a mansion, even compared to the huge houses that were the norm in his home.

“Eno’s hosting dinner tonight,” Brutus said. “Just the Victors.” He placed a hand on Cato’s shoulder before clapping him in the back. His voice dropped so that only Cato would hear, “No one really knows what it’s like. They see the glamor and glory; only we see reality.”

_What was reality?_ Cato couldn’t help but wonder as Brutus left and he entered his house. He would show up to the dinner if only to appease his _colleagues_ and make sure that people wouldn’t think he was at odds with the others. Even if no one was watching — _there’s always someone watching_.

Ever since his return, everyone has been congratulating him. He had effectively paid back his father’s debts. He had pulled his family name out of the proverbial gutter. He had become a Victor. He had defied the Capitol. He had lived where Clove had died. He had outsmarted the gamemakers. He had lived because of Primrose Everdeen. He had defied the Capitol. He had lived where Clove had died. He had lived because of Primrose Everdeen. The Capitol was furious.

Cato pulled himself out of the tub with a gasp.

The Seventy-forth Hunger Games was a part of his life he would never truly move on from. With two hours left until dinner, Cato put on casual wear and headed for the Kentley household. Was it odd that he had spent more time at his ex’s home as opposed to either of his parent’s?

Clove’s family never outright blamed him for her death, but he could feel their stares whenever he was there. The only one he spoke to was Clove’s mother, and even then it was only to decline her offer of food and beverage.

He stood in Clove’s bedroom. It would be the third time he had done it since his return to District Two. He looked around the room, which had remained untouched since Clove’s departure on the reaping day of the Seventy-forth Hunger Games.

The first time he’d come, Clove’s mother had asked him what he was doing at their doorstep. He had brought her a bouquet of lotus flowers, Clove’s favorite flowers, along with a ring. He knew it was a Kentley family heirloom. It had been gifted to Clove on her thirteenth birthday, and she had kept it as her token for the games. He supposed in returning Clove’s favorite flowers and her ring, he hoped to express the remorse he felt in not being able to return their daughter to them. In her mother’s acceptance of the items, Cato hoped to have gained forgiveness.

When the sun had set, Cato headed for Victors Village.

Aside from his own house, he hadn’t entered any of the other homes in Victors Village, which is why he had no idea what to expect as he walked up the steps that led to Enobaria’s. He rung the doorbell, and was surprised when Brutus clapped him on the back. He hadn’t even hear the bigger man behind him.

“You can just go in. Eno leaves the door unlocked all the time.” He opened the door with a shrug.

They entered and headed straight for the kitchen, where Enobaria was busy chopping some vegetables while Lyme sat on one of the bar stools, a glass of whiskey in her hand. Everyone looked far from the Capitol-filtered Victors they were always made to look in the media.

What a contrast they all made. Brutus stood tallest among all of them, wearing a colorful blazer over a black shirt. Dark pants and shoes finished his look. Cato, on the other hand, wore a plain white shirt and gray pants. Lyme wore a short mauve dress that fell only a few inches past her bum and black boots. Her short hair was free of any ornament, and her face was free of any makeup. Enobaria wore a yellow pant suit under her checkered apron, though Cato was surprised to find that she was barefoot.

“Lovely for you to join us,” Lyme’s mocking tone wasn’t lost on anyone. Cato took the seat beside her, and Brutus opened the bottle of gin he had brought with him. He poured himself a glass and motioned for Cato to pour himself his own drink of choice.

Cato poured himself some whiskey, then refocused on Enobaria. “So what’s this about?”

“I like hosting dinner at least once a month.” Enobaria waved her hand nonchalantly, her sharp gold teeth glinting. “Keep everyone up to date with everything that they have going on.”

“Well, I’m back teaching in the Academy, so I’m just making sure we have a viable option for the Quarter Quell.” Brutus scratched the top of his bald head.

Cato thought that that would be the topic the entire evening, however they soon moved into other points of interest. And so Cato got to know his fellow victors. When Enobaria finished cooking, they had moved to the dining table, continuing their conversation.

As it turned out, Brutus was married and had two children, one of whom would become eligible by the next Hunger Games, and both of whom had been learning to wield a weapon and training since they could walk. Enobaria had two older brothers and a niece. Lyme, on the other hand, no longer kept in contact with her family, only having second cousins and distant relatives. Her parents had passed years ago, and she had no desire to marry or have children of her own.

“And you, Cato?” Enobaria asked. “Ever plan on settling down?”

“Only with Primrose, of course,” Brutus laughed.

That therein lay the problem then, didn’t it? They were right in implying that he would only ever settle down with the District Twelve Victor. However, how could that be possible if they lived in two different places? Was it possible at all?

“Would you?” Lyme eyed him from across the table.

“Would I what?”

“Would you actually be with her?” Lyme then amended, “Given the chance, of course.”

Cato looked from Enobaria, then Brutus, then Lyme, who was sitting by his side. Was there a right answer there? Were there eyes and ears monitoring him here as well?

“Hypothetically,” Cato clenched his jaw briefly. “I would never leave her side.” Honesty and insanity.

Lyme watched him for a moment. “Hm.” She took a drink, then Brutus commanded everyone’s attention once more as he regaled them with stories of the academy students being annoying pieces of shit.

When Cato stood in his living room later that night, he would wonder about Lyme’s question. Was a future with Primrose Everdeen actually possible?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there's the first chapter of the second installment of my series, Roses and Revolution! Let's see where Cato and Prim take us as we go through the events of Catching Fire.


	2. Missing Pieces

Chapter Two – Missing Pieces

 

* * *

Sundays meant Katniss was out in the woods with Gale, which prompted Prim to stay in the district. However, there was a part of her that simply couldn’t sit still once again, and no amount of walking around or even making idle chit chat with anyone could sate her. So she headed for the woods once more, keeping her senses on high alert to not disturb Katniss, Gale, or the animals they were hunting.

She was sitting by the river when Katniss and Gale had stumbled upon her. They were holding hands and laughing, which was definitely a welcome sight to the younger Everdeen.

“ _Finally_.” Prim laughed, hoping not to worry her sister.

“You aren’t usually here on Sundays.” Katniss sat by her sister as Gale went on to check on the traps located nearby.

“Yeah, I usually let you two have some space.” Prim’s cheeky smile was nothing like the smiles she used to give, and Katniss once again lamented the changes in her sister.

“Us?” Gale laughed as he sat on Katniss free side, “Now why would we need that?”

Prim rolled her eyes. “It took me leaving for you to finally man up to Katniss about how you felt,” she pointed out, earning a laugh from all three of them.

“I’m glad you’re back, little duck.” Gale reached around Katniss and placed a hand on Prim’s shoulder. He squeezed softly before Katniss pulled her sister close for a hug.

Katniss whispered into Prim’s hair, “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve been back for a while now,” mumbled Prim, but didn’t protest her sister’s words. She herself didn’t necessarily feel like she was always there, and she definitely felt out of place wherever she went.

“It’s not the same.”

They stayed that way for a while; leaning against each other while Gale sat to the side.

“You two shouldn’t let me cut into your time.” Prim pulled away from Katniss, leaning slightly so that she met Gale’s gaze.

Gale laughed, “Are you kidding? You’ve been keeping my family well-fed, Prim. I don’t hunt to feed them immediately anymore thanks to you.” His smile softened. “You and Katniss, both.”

“You would have done the same thing.” And they all knew that was the truth. Katniss and Gale had the type of relationship Prim could only ever dream of. They would do anything for the other — maybe a little like how she and Cato had been willing to risk everything.

Once they were back in the Seam, Prim and Katniss made a deal to go into the woods at least once a week. While Katniss and Gale had Sundays, Prim and Katniss would have Saturdays. It was a step in getting reacquainted for the pair of Everdeens. It was a step closer to normal.

When Wednesday came around, Prim was in the Justice Building with Haymitch, Cinna, and Effie. They stood in a room with a long table surrounded by chairs in the middle. Looking decidedly more made up than her norm, Prim stood in a white blouse and loose lavender pants that Cinna had chosen for her. Haymitch looked better than normal as well, though he was still decidedly drunk.

“Because this would be the first time in history that there are two Victors — from different districts, no less.” Effie placed a small metal ball in the middle of the table and then stepped back. She motioned for Prim and Haymitch to sit as she and Cinna stood behind them. “Now if you two had been from the same district then it would have been a matter of going through the rounds in the same way that any tour would have been.”

“I’m surprised they even wanted to hold this meeting,” Prim watched as the orb flickered then a hologram shot out from it, depicting a screen of sorts. “I’m sure you all would have been able to set everything up without us.” Sweet and thoughtful. Haymitch had told her to trust him, and after everything he must have done to keep her alive, it was the least Prim could do. He had told her to be sweet and thoughtful when she had come to his house the day before. _Be the sweet and thoughtful little girl you’ve been to me, kid._

Effie smiled, “Oh, but this is a special occasion! Go on, go on, have a look!”

The screen flickered, and then the symbol of Panem flashed before them. It was followed by the symbol of the Capitol, and then the symbol of the president. It cut to black before President Snow flashed into view.

“Greetings to the winners of the Seventy-forth Hunger Games. I am Coriolanus Snow, the President of Panem. I have crowned you when you emerged victorious from the arena, but I have been unable to properly speak with you. With that, I would like to invite you to the Capitol for a small celebration in my home. Only family and the closest friends shall be invited, and you are encouraged to bring your family to this once in a lifetime event. Your escorts shall have more information on hand, and I look forward to your arrival.”

There was another flash of the three symbols before the screen faded and the hologram retracted into the orb.

Effie looked beyond pleased, but there was no mistaking Haymitch’s clenched jaw. Prim was both excited and terrified. She had never heard of victors being in the Capitol before the Victory Tour, but then again perhaps it was an unspoken sort of thing. Effie’s reaction told her that wasn’t the case though. This was different.

President Snow was inviting her and Cato into his own home.

* * *

Cato stiffened. He told himself not to make a scene: and even though he wanted nothing more than to leave the room, he sat and listened. Achilee and Celia talked about details Cato couldn’t care less about. He wasn’t going to bring anyone from his family. All that he cared about was the other recipient of the message. President Snow may have said that it was an invitation, but Cato knew there was no refusing him.

He dreaded bringing any of his living family members to the Capitol. He knew he could bring only his father if he wanted to, but that his mother and her new family (also known as his cousin and uncle) would kick up a fuss. Really, he would much rather go alone.

That was a thought he had quickly come to in conclusion. By the time he returned home, he was surprised to find the door unlocked. While the cases of robbery were near non-existent in Panem, Cato had always been a private man, and so always locked his door.

A man stood in his living room.

No, not a man.

Coriolanus Snow.


	3. President Snow

Chapter Three – President Snow 

* * *

President Snow stood in his living room, looking as if he owned the place and Cato was the guest. Seeing as the President ruled everyone, that may as well have been case. From his peripheral, he saw two other men emerge. One came from his study, and the other came from the direction of the staircase, so Cato could only assume that they had come upstairs.

“You left your door unlocked, Mr. Hadwell.” Cato highly doubted that, but said nothing of it. President Snow waved his hand, then his men left the house, letting Cato’s front door close softly behind them.

Cato watched as the older man sat in the large armchair by the fireplace, a spot Cato was beginning to favor because he liked starting a fire and poking at the warm hearth. President Snow motioned to the other chairs, and Cato situated himself across from him so that his back was neither to the window nor the door.

“I think we’ll make this whole situation a lot simpler by agreeing not to lie to each other,” he said. “What do you think?”

A slow nod was Cato’s reply, along with, “Yes, I think so.”

“I had been warned you would be difficult, but you aren’t planning on being difficult at all, are you?”

“No,” Cato answered, a brief image of Prim flashing in his mind. Did he visit her as well? Would he?

“Yes, I told them that any boy who goes to such lengths to preserve her life wouldn’t just throw it all away. Perhaps he wouldn’t care for his family, but he would _surely_ care for his lover.” It took all of Cato’s training to hold himself still and looking calm. “I have a problem, Mister Hadwell,” said President Snow. “A problem that began the moment you took a dead tribute’s body in your arms and held a _funeral_.”

Prim and Peeta’s friend. _Rue._

“If the Head Gamemaker, Seneca Crane, had had any brains, he’d have blown you all to dust then.” _He, Peeta, and Prim would have all died._ “But he had an unfortunate sentimental streak. So here you are. Can you guess where he is?”

Another nod from Cato let President Snow understand that the younger man knew the implications of his words. Cato could smell the scent of blood and roses, and while he could see the flower on President Snow’s lapel, he knew that normal flowers didn’t reek like that. He did his best not to delve into where the other scent was coming from.

_Seneca Crane followed the guards tasked with escorting him to President Snow for their meeting. They opened the grand doors for him, and he entered without question. It was when he finally realized what was in the room that he worried._

_A knotted rope hung from the ceiling in the middle of the room._

A noose.

_He walked back to the doors, only to find it locked. There was no execution for Seneca Crane._

“Everyone in the Capitol bought your crazy in love bit, unfortunately, not everyone in the districts fell for your act,” he said.

A flicker of bewilderment.

“This, of course, you don’t know. You have no access to information about the mood in other districts. In several of them, however, people viewed your little ceremony — _and the bit with Miss Everdeen_ — as an act of defiance.” There was a pause, as if President Snow were considering the merits of his confronting Cato. “If a girl from District Twelve of all places can defy the Capitol and walk away unharmed, what is to stop them from doing the same?”

And there it was.

It wasn’t about Cato at all. Unlike what he had been led to believe in the beginning of their conversation, President Snow wasn’t after him per se. President Snow was after Primrose Everdeen.

“She loves me,” Cato said.

“So you say,” agreed President Snow. Cato couldn’t help but feel that he had said the wrong thing. “However, what is to say that her defiance wouldn’t have begun something? What is to prevent, say, an uprising?”

He wanted to question if there had been uprisings, but instead, his mind went forward to wherehe felt the conversation would ultimately go.

“I see you’re more intelligent than what you’ve led people to believe.” President Snow seemed impressed.

“Will you kill me?” _Will you kill her?_

“Would that keep her in line?”

“Maybe.” _I don’t know._

“It wouldn’t,” said President Snow gravely.

How would he know? Had he spoken with Prim?

“And I have reason to believe she isn’t as important to you as you say she is.”

Cato frowned. With every fiber of his being, he knew that there was no one in his life more important than Primrose Everdeen. Especially not now, when they were seemingly on the brink of preventing (or beginning?) a coup.

“Perhaps you ought not to constantly visit your ex lover’s home, Mister Hadwell?”

Ice water down his back, that’s what it felt like. Even when he had tried to be inconspicuous, there had still been eyes on him. More than that, those eyes had misunderstood his reasons for being there. Was there no room to grieve for the loss of a friend?

“Yes, I’m sure you understand.”

People would think that he was still hung up on Clove. In President Snow’s eyes, his presence in the Kentley home, and the lack of discretion he had displayed in trying to be there was him blatantly showing that he had no regard for what the Capitol thought. It looked as if he had played a part in the arena so as to survive, but that he didn’t truly care for his Rose.

“I’ve invited you to my home before your Victory Tour to begin making amends, Mister Hadwell.” President Snow’s eyes stayed locked with his. “The entire event, from your arrival to your departure would be recorded to be played in the days leading up to the tour. You’ve convinced the Capitol that you were willing to do everything for Miss Everdeen while running on adrenaline and fighting for your life. Now you have to convince the districts that even after all that has happened and your time apart, you are every bit in love with her.”

“I understand.”

“Failing that, Mister Hadwell, you ought to aim higher.”

“How?” _How can I aim higher than the truth?_

“Convince _me_.”

 

* * *

 

Two days after the meeting at the Justice Building, Prim found herself standing in her old home in the Seam. She hadn’t been in the woods, finding herself restless and exhausted at the same time. She sat on her old bed and undid her boots. She lied down and curled up and into herself.

Another hour and it was noon. She figured she would get lunch at home with her mother before she headed out to hunt for the Hawthornes.

“Mom?” Prim called out as she entered her home. There was something off about the silence that greeted her, because she would usually hear or smell her mother’s cooking just as she entered her home. When she had taken off her coat and stood in just her shirt, overalls, and socks, Prim headed to the dining area, where she found her mother having lunch with _President Snow_.

Two other people stood on opposite sides of the room, but the only thing that had registered in Prim’s mind was that President Snow looked far different from the man she had briefly met in the Capitol as he spoke to and ate with her mother.

“Oh, Prim, I didn’t hear you come in! How was your walk?” Of course, her mother knew what she was usually up to this time of day, but they couldn’t let anyone else know that. Her mother’s smile looked a bit forced, though it wouldn’t have been obvious had you not known the woman. “Look who came by to visit!”

“Good afternoon, Miss Everdeen.”

“Good afternoon, President Snow,” was her sweet reply. “I’d offer something to eat or drink, but I see you’ve beaten me to lunch.” Her voice was light and airy, like she always had to sound.

“Yes, your mother is a wonderful cook.” He smiled. “May we speak in private?”

“Yes, I…Mom, can we use the study?”

Her mother nodded, “Go ahead, I’ll clean up here. Maybe the President’s men could eat as well.”

When they finally stood in the rarely used study (and by rarely, Prim meant that she’d only ever been there twice), President Snow closed the door and sat behind the desk. He gestured for her to take one of the two chairs across him, and she did so carefully.

“How are the woods this fine day, Miss Everdeen?”

Shock. Anxiety. Defeat. Prim knew she could lie. She could deny that she’d ever been in the woods, much less that she regularly went there.

“I do think you’re clever enough not to lie to me, yes?” An order masked as a question.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now I’d like to speak to you about the trouble you’ve caused me, Miss Everdeen.” He said. “The moment you’d tied that knot and offered it to Mister Hadwell, you had begun something far bigger than just your and Mister Hadwell’s new lease on life.”

She remembered Cato’s words before their interview. _“The Capitol didn’t like what we did. We’re in trouble. Haymitch came and told me.”_ She made no move to speak as President Snow continued.

“No one in the Capitol doubted that you were every bit in love with the boy from District Two.” President Snow stated. “The districts, however, weren’t as naive.”

Prim’s eyes widened, her eyebrows rising.

“Of course, you don’t know about this. You have no access to information about the events in other districts.” President Snow leant forward, fingers threading together as he set his hands on the desk. The room smelled of blood and roses, an odd combination that Prim didn’t quite understand the origin. “Let me enlighten you; in several of them, people viewed your little trick with the rope as an act of defiance, not desperation.”

“Love,” Prim found herself saying.

“An act of _love_ , then.” President Snow amended. “So tell me, Miss Everdeen, if a little girl from District Twelve of all places can defy the Capitol and walk away unharmed, what is to stop those from other districts from doing the same?” There was no mistaking the way he narrowed his eyes, “What is to prevent, say, an uprising?”

“Uprisings?” Prim felt an odd mix of dread and excitement coursing through her as she said, “There have been uprisings?”

“Not yet. But they’ll follow if things don’t change. And uprisings have been known to lead to revolution.” The implications were clear. Even Prim understood that she was being pinned as the instigator of this _almost revolution_. “Do you have any idea what that would mean? How many people would die? What conditions those left would have to face?”

“I didn’t mean to start anything,” she whispered. The image of all her fellow tributes dead were replaced with the image of her mother. Gale. Haymitch. Katniss. _Katniss._ What would Katniss do in her position?

“I believe you,” nodded President Snow, leaning back. “But it doesn’t matter. Your stylist turned out to be quite the prophet. Primrose Everdeen, the angel on fire. You’ve provided a spark that, left unattended, may grow to an inferno that destroys Panem, and yet, you hadn’t tried to accomplish anything at all. You were every bit as innocent as an angel, and your partner had been more than willing to let the world burn at your feet.”

“Peeta?”

“Now I thought we agreed that we wouldn’t lie to each other, Miss Everdeen?” _She doesn’t know the effect she can have._

He had meant Cato. The realization had Prim’s head spinning. She could feel the beginnings of a panic attack in her chest, and tears prick her eyes, but she did her best to keep her composure in check.

President Snow seemed to sense her dilemma and let her gather her wits. There would be no use speaking to a person who couldn’t comprehend their conversation, after all.

“Why don’t you kill me now?” She blurted out.

“You and Mister Hadwell seem to think that your deaths would fix everything, don’t you?”

_Cato?_ He had talked to Cato already. Did he tell him the same things he was telling her? Was Cato being blamed for problems she had begun? She hated the thought that something would happen to him because of her. Their win would have been for nothing, then.

“But to answer you, it would only add fuel to the flames.”

“Even if it looked like an accident or punishment?” She asked. “I was caught out in the woods?”

President Snow sent her a sardonic smile. “You truly are more than a naive little girl, aren’t you? However, to kill you publicly would result in adding fuel to the flames as well, and to stage an accident…” He looked at her, and Prim knew without a doubt that it had been an option at one point. “Who would believe that? Not even you, if you were watching.”

“Then what do I do?” _How do I keep everyone alive?_

“You have been invited to my home for a winter feast, Miss Everdeen. I trust you have nothing to fear and hide from cameras and various people _dying_ to meet you.” It was odd to see the way President Snow seemingly relaxed a bit. “You have given me no reason to believe that you are no less in love with Cato Hadwell than you had been when you’d offered him his death. Remind the people the truth, Miss Everdeen. Your feelings are for Mister Hadwell and the cameras, not a rebellion.”

“Of course, President Snow.”

_She doesn’t know the effect she can have._


	4. Little Duck

Chapter Four – Little Duck

* * *

President Snow’s visit had Prim spiraling into a panic attack the likes of which she had never experienced. She vaguely remembered telling her mother that she would be back for dinner, then leaving her house and crossing to Haymitch’s. Inside, she found the man asleep in his room. She debated her next move, and ended up leaving his home and going back into her newest place of comfort.

There was a meadow in the woods, a little walk away from the lake where she and Katniss had been taught to swim. In spring, some patches of the field would be covered in primroses; her namesake. The area spoke of hazy memories from her childhood. A picnic with her family. Her father teaching her to swim. Katniss and her racing. Perhaps it was why she found the place calming. But as it were, winter was in full swing and only her footsteps disrupted the blanket of snow that covered the ground.

She wasn’t quite sure how long she’d been out, because by the time she had realigned herself with reality, the sun had set, the moon and stars were her only source of light, and her sister was beside her.

Katniss offered her a small smile, “Nice to have you back.”

“How long have I been out here?”

“I’ve been beside you for about an hour now,” Katniss shrugged. “Mom got worried when you weren’t back for dinner. She said you went out after President Snow visited.”

“They don’t show it on television, but President Snow visits the Victors of each game.” Prim lied smoothly. “I guess seeing him reminded me of the games though, so I needed a breath of fresh air.”

For a moment, Prim thought Katniss would question her further, but was relieved to find that her sister believed her. There was no possible reason to lie to Katniss, after all. Primrose Everdeen was as sweet as an angel. _She doesn’t know the effect she can have._

“Thanks for coming here to find me, Katniss.” Prim placed an arm around Katniss’ waist and leaned her head on her sister’s shoulder.

“If you want, you could stay here tonight.” Katniss looked up. “I know you don’t get much sleep in that place.” And by _that place_ , Katniss meant their house in Victors Village. “I’ve got a blanket in my bag and you can sleep up in the trees,” she offered. “Or at home, in the Seam.”

“What would you tell mom?”

“That you’ll always know where home is, and that you’ll always find your way to it.” Katniss wrapped her sister in a hug, placing a kiss on her temple. “I’m not stupid. I know you’re not the same little duck that left, but this doesn’t change the fact that you’re my sister.” She paused to breathe. “I did everything to make sure we survived after dad died, and while I became resentful of how the world treated me and how our mom clocked out on us, you adapted. You managed to make life brighter in our dark corner of the district, Prim; not just for our family, but for the people around us. I hunted, you healed, and even when you weren’t a fan of using my arrows, you learned to use your knives.”

Prim’s hold on her sister tightened.

“I just want to say,” Katniss pressed another kiss to Prim’s temple. “Maybe I can’t understand exactly what’s going on with you right now, but I’ll always be here for you.”

“I love you, Katniss.”

“I love you too, Prim.”

* * *

 

Cato, after being told that his family’s attendance would be required in the trip to President Snow’s home, began to reach out to his family. Sort of. Truthfully, he had told his uncle about the invite, but phrased it in such a way that made it seem only his biological mother and father would be granted pass. In exchange for _convincing_ his team to let his uncle and cousin join them, Cato had asked for one of the rooms in his home to be outfitted like one of the gyms in the academy.

It had taken a day to outfit his selected room with all his specifications.

That had been three days ago, so that meant three days of Cato not leaving his house. He would have gone on for longer if it weren’t for the incessant knocking on his door. Even then, he could have ignored it if Brutus’ voice hadn’t accompanied the knocks.

“I could just stop being polite and break this door,” said Brutus, though Cato could barely be bothered to care.

“Or you could be a decent person and stop bothering me.” Cato said as he opened the door. He turned and left the older victor standing at his doorway. He went to the kitchen to drink some water, knowing that Brutus would let himself in and help himself to whatever he wanted.

“I hear you’re bringing your parents,” Brutus leaned against the counter. He looked around, as if there were anything interesting to see in Cato’s home. “Both of them…including your mother’s new family.”

“What’s your point, Brutus?”

“Your family will meet her family.” He grinned, and Cato knew he wasn’t going to like the next words out of Brutus’ mouth. “Usually, there would be rings involved in these situations.”

In his head, Cato could hear President Snow’s voice. _Convince me._

His non answer told Brutus that his fellow victor hadn’t thought about it from that angle at all.

“She’s thirteen,” Cato said.

“And yet that didn’t stop you from wanting her then,” was Brutus’ quick reply. “I’m just saying, you’ve already built yourselves up to be madly in love with each other. A marriage proposal wouldn’t be too much of a surprise. It also isn’t out of the equation.”

Cato didn’t want to admit Brutus had a great point. There was enough foundation in his and Prim’s supposed love story to warrant a grand (albeit unplanned) proposal, but how would that even work? If they were to marry, where would they live? Would he move to District Twelve? Would she move to District Two? Or perhaps worst of all, would they live in the Capitol?

“Anyways, that isn’t the only reason I wanted to speak to you.” Brutus said. “Since you and Lyme leave for the Capitol exactly a week from now, Eno and I figured we’d have dinner the day before then. Just us again.”

Yes, Achilee had told him the conditions of the president’s invitation. There were only three, and they were pretty straightforward: (1) He could bring any and all of his biological family; (2) Only one of his mentors may join him; and (3) Tell no one of the arrangement. They had decided that Lyme would accompany him since she had no family to speak of that may miss her in her absence. That and Enobaria already had an invite for a party in the Capitol that same week, so she wouldn’t have been able to accompany him.

“For what it’s worth, kid,” Brutus clapped him on the back. “We trust you.”

Now why did that feel like such a loaded statement?

* * *

 

The following morning, Prim woke up feeling better than she had in a long while, which was ironic, considering she had slept up in a tree. Katniss had left her last night, after teaching her how to effectively camp out on a treetop. When she had finally gotten down from her perch, the sun was just beginning to rise. She hurried to get back into the district, always making sure to patiently listen for the hum of electricity that ought to be running through the wire fence. A heavy sigh of relief escaped her as she found none, and quietly crept to her home in the Seam.

By the time she arrived at her house in Victors Village, her mother had just finished making breakfast and Katniss had just stepped out of the bathroom after her morning shower. They ate together, and seeing as it was a Saturday, Katniss and Prim were going to head back out into the woods to hunt.

From the snares, they’d caught two rabbits, and after resetting it, the pair decided to head to the river where they had placed fishing traps. Around the area were herbs and vegetables Prim knew Hazelle and her mother liked to cook with.

“Why do you do that? Aren’t you cold?” Katniss asked as they sat to eat the lunch their mother had packed for them. Prim looked confused, so Katniss continued, “You always take your coat off when you get out here.”

She had never noticed it until that moment. Prim looked down at her hips, where she’d tied the arms of her jacket. It didn’t take her much to figure out why. As much as she hated the games, the woods was an echo of the arena and the distance it gave her to the Capitol. And back in the arena, she’d felt cold, finding warmth only when in the arms of one of her fellow tributes or by the flames of a fire. The cold sting of the season continuously caused goosebumps on her skin.

“You don’t have to reply,” Katniss smiled. “But you do have to tuck your tail in, Little Duck.” She laughed as she properly tucked the back of Prim’s shirt into her bottoms.

They shared a laugh at that, and for a moment, Prim could enjoy being with her older sister. It felt so surreal to be in the space Prim had once considered (Gale and) Katniss’. Once upon a time, it had been her father’s. The thought had Prim sobering. Would Galen Everdeen have been proud of the person she had become?

“Prim?” Katniss knelt before her sister, cradling her face in both hands.

Prim hadn’t even realized she was crying.

“You can talk to me.”

“Do you think dad would be mad?”

“Prim,” Katniss’ hands moved so that she was holding her sister to her chest. “Dad would be overjoyed that his little girl survived.”

It was honest. Katniss hadn’t lied and said that their father would have been proud, because in the end, Prim had taken a life and bent the rules to suit her selfish wants. In the end, she had flapped her wings and caused a hurricane. In the end, she had considered Cato before she had even thought of Katniss. In the end, she had been blinded by all that she’d seen and experienced in both the Capitol and in the arena.

In the end, she had become a symbol.

In the end, she had become an angel.

On fire.

An angel on fire.

An angel of death?

She fell asleep in Katniss’ arms, her sob giving way to sniffles and then to even breathing.

Katniss maneuvered them so that Prim’s head was resting on her lap while her legs were stretched out. She had once heard someone say that _time healed all wounds_. She supposed they’ve never met or gotten to know a victor.

The Capitol had taken her sister’s innocence, and there was nothing she could do about it.

The little girl afraid of her own shadow had grown to extinguish the fear by becoming light itself. Panem might have seen an angel when they saw her sister, but Katniss knew better. For all the makeup and gimmick that they could come up with, her sister would always be her Little Duck. She would always be the gentle hands that helped heal her whenever she or people of the Seam got sick or hurt. She would always be the soft whispers by candlelight when they were unable to light their own fireplace. She would always be the happy sigh whenever Katniss sang.

The Capitol had taken her sister’s innocence and made her into something else, and there was nothing Katniss could do but care for the jaded young lady that had returned from the arena.

Prim shifted, turning her head to Katniss’ stomach; and with an exhale, she murmured, _“Cato.”_

The Capitol had taken her sister’s innocence, but District Two had taken her heart.


	5. Brother

Chapter Five – Brother

* * *

Brutus laughed as his kids climbed him like a tree. Cato had no idea how he had been roped into being one of the sitters for Brutus’ offspring, but knew that he didn’t really have much of a choice. As it turned out, Brutus and his wife always went away for a week to celebrate their wedding anniversary. This basically meant they went out and kept themselves away from their own home for the day and only returned for dinner for five days.

Cato thought it was a bit much, but as it turned out, Enobaria or Lyme usually watched over the kids, depending on who was free at the time, sometimes even doing so together. It was one of the reasons they were all so familiar with each other, Cato supposed. Not only did they have an understanding of what each other had gone through, but they had continued their friendship outside of game-related events.

Is that what he had to look forward to? A meaningful relationship with his fellow District Two Victors? That didn’t seem too bad, no matter how much he got irritated by Brutus’ nosiness. Really, the man was worse than Capitolian socialites.

“Really, Astor and Hela are very sweet when their parents aren’t around.” Enobaria said as she stepped around Cato to greet Brutus’ wife, Sola, whose fair skin and blonde hair reminded him very strongly of his Rose. One look at the color of her eyes told him that she wasn’t his though, and he looked back to the children and their father.

“I think it’s more like they are complete angels for Eno ‘cause she’s good with kids,” said Brutus as he balanced having Hela on his shoulders and Astor on his hip. “Lyme scares them though, which is funny. You’d think because of her teeth, they’d be running from Eno.”

“Well Enobaria wasn’t the one watching them when Hela was teething, was she?” Lyme said, returning from the kitchen with Enobaria and Sola.

“Really, how long will you hold that against her, Lyme?” Enobaria laughed.

“Probably forever,” Sola joked as she coaxed the children down from their father.

“You should just have kids of your own and have Hela babysit as payback or something,” Brutus helped the kids down.

A few hours after Brutus and his wife left, Cato found himself watching over eleven year old Astor. The kid, who must have been what Brutus had looked like as a child with his dark hair and tan skin would have been what Cato envisioned in a younger brother. He was energetic, strong, and—

“When I win the Hunger Games, I’m gonna ask Prim to marry me.”

_utterly smitten with Primrose Everdeen._

“Are you now?” Cato raised a brow at Astor.

“Yeah, she’d love me!” Astor didn’t see Cato’s brow twitch.

They were practicing in Cato’s home gym, Astor having wanted to try beating the latest Victor in hand-to-hand combat. Before they could spar though, Cato had figured that he would let Astor warmup first. And of course, much like Brutus, Astor was a bit of a loudmouth.

Cato nudged Astor’s shin so that he could adjust his stance, and noted Astor’s improved efficiency in hitting the bag. Was this what it meant to be a mentor? He guided Astor’s moves; because while he was an able fighter, he fought in a style better-suited for a man his father’s size — which is to say, large and bulky.

When Cato was satisfied that Astor had warmed up enough, they settled on the mats so that they could _properly_ spar.

Of course, it wasn’t an all out fight, else Cato would have killed Astor. As it were, with three well-placed hits, Cato had Astor pinned to the ground.

“You’re gonna have to get rid of me to marry my girl, Astor,” taunted Cato before letting Astor stand.

“We’ll see about that!” Astor ran at him with a determination Cato was more than familiar with.

It took a few tries, but Astor was finally able to pin Cato. The older of the two applauded the other, pointing out other ways he could have gone around to pinning him. After expressing an interest to learn how to sword-fight, Cato agreed to teach Astor whenever he wasn’t at the Academy. Cato had no intention of going back to teach full-time like Brutus had.

After the kids had been tucked into their beds, Cato, Enobaria, and Lyme retired to the back porch, where they had a great view of the flowerbeds and herb garden that Sola liked to care for. Cato continued to be astounded by the new information he gained. As it turned out, Brutus and Sola had been sweethearts from a young age, to the point of Sola giving Brutus the token he had brought for his Hunger Games (a simple necklace he wore underneath his clothes that had a bullet for a pendant). Sola was also an intelligent woman, as one of the lead innovators in weaponry. She was beyond any woman he had ever met or heard of.

Cato sat on the swing while Lyme sat on the porch rails. Enobaria poured everyone some wine before she stood to lean by one of the posts.

“How was your day with your little mentee, Cato?” Enobaria inquired.

“He’s strong,” admitted Cato, swirling the glass to and fro. “He’s smart too.”

“Strong and smart enough to win?” Lyme asked, finishing her wine in one go.

Enobaria hummed. “He’s up to be drawn for the Third Quarter Quell.”

“Brutus is worried,” Lyme said as she reached out a hand for the bottle Enobaria had set on the table beside Cato. He handed it to her. “Seeing that District Eleven kid definitely got to him.”

_Rue_.

They continued to speak, volleying between talking about Brutus and Sola’s life, the games, the upcoming trip to the Capitol, and the Victory Tour. Since Lyme and Enobaria were going to stay to watch over the kids, Cato left on his own.

He hadn’t even registered falling asleep until he woke up with a scream.

“ROSE!”

It wasn’t the first time it had happened, and he knew it wouldn’t be the last. He couldn’t even remember the nightmare anymore, but the ending was pretty much always the same. He would wake up in cold sweat screaming Clove’s or Prim’s name. Ever since President Snow’s visit though, it had been more Prim than Clove. The fear of her death being on his hands, no matter how indirect, was not a reality he wanted.

_How can I go on without you?_

Her words from their interview echoed in his mind. He honestly wasn’t sure if she had meant it. They had both been aware of their precarious position then, and knew that they had to sell their love more than ever. He had played his part well.

And so had she.

Now if only he could figure out what was reality.

Was their love nothing but a figment of their imagination?

Was it simply a plot the game makers had decided would be the center of their games?

_A plot gone awry_ , he would correct himself. President Snow had not been a fan of the decision to keep the both of them alive. He and Prim may not have been in love, nor had they meant to start _something_ , but the fact that their actions and emotions had been manipulated and…

and…

_weaponized_ , his mind supplied.

The games had manipulated their actions, but the people had weaponized it. Some people in _some_ districts saw his respect for what Prim would have wanted (a burial for her friend) and her unwillingness to be without him ( _“…I think you ought to know that you're just as much mine as I am yours by now.”_ ) as them defying the Capitol.

They hadn’t done anything. They hadn’t meant to do anything.

He threw off the covers and headed to his bathroom to wash his face. The sun had yet to rise, and it wasn’t for the first time that Cato was grateful for his new equipment as he headed to his own training facility of sorts and set things up so he could go for a run in the comfort and privacy of his own home.

Two and a half hours later, Cato was making himself breakfast.

“Cato! Cato! Cato!”

Well, at least he could look forward to Astor keeping him distracted from his own mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you have a good day!


End file.
